Winter Veil 2: Mommies and Daddies

[moonshadows]

The blue-haired boy opened the door. His eyes widened, and he turned to call back into the cottage, “Mama! Ember and Uncle Illidan are here!”

Tyrande and Malfurion rushed out into the light snowfall. The priestess snatched up her daughter and hugged her tightly, while the two brothers embraced fiercely.

“You’re looking well, brother,” the druid murmured as they separated, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Illidan grinned. “Zul’vii!”

The half-troll stepped out from behind a tree, waving shyly. Tyrande gave a glad cry and handed Ember to her husband before rushing forward to embrace the startled healer.

“My pretty little niece,” Malfurion said deliberately, voice as warm as he could make it. Ember relaxed at the silent reassurance that he wouldn’t try to claim her, and hugged him with equal warmth.

“What happened, Zul’vii?” Tyrande asked, gesturing for everyone to go back inside. “You were gone for so long…”

“Like I told this overgrown fossil…” the troll grinned at Illidan, who mock-growled. “Ran into some bad juju that sent me to a part of Draenor I’d never seen. Took me a while to figure out where I was, and get back to him.”

As the adults settled onto a pair of couches, Ember announced solemnly, “Mama Zul’vii was very sick. Daddy was very worried.”

“I imagine he was.” Malfurion’s worried eyes searched his brother’s face, seeking some hint. Ember struggled, and he let go so she could climb down from his lap and up into the troll’s.

“I’m fine,” she reassured everyone, bouncing the girl on her knee. “Illidan was very considerate and attentive and made absolutely sure I recovered.”

Tyrande’s eyebrows shot up. “Was he now?”

“Obnoxious whelp,” the half-demon purred. “We are bonded, how could I be anything but?”

Ember struggled again. “Gonna go play with ‘Larian.”

Zul’vii released the girl. “If you need to bite?”

“Bite wood.”

“If you need to bite flesh?”

“Try to bite you or Daddy.”

“Good girl. Go play.”

Malfurion’s eyes twinkled as he struggled to hold back a smile. “He has you well-trained.”

The troll gaped while Illidan chuckled.

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The brothers Stormrage stood in companionable silence, watching the sun rise.

“It makes my heart glad to see you so happy,” Malfurion said quietly. “I’m sorry for all the things I did and said to push you away. You are my brother; I should have been trying to help you.”

“We don’t value what we have until it is denied us,” Illidan replied, voice equally soft. “Stars know I was needlessly cruel to Zul’vii.”

The druid glanced at his brother. “It shames me to say this, but until I saw you with her tonight, a part of me still feared you would try to win Tyrande away from me.”

“Brother, no…” Illidan turned to meet Malfurion’s eyes. “No, brother. She chose you. As much as I wished it had been otherwise, I could never undermine her happiness.”

“I know, I know.” The druid sighed. “It still hurts, seeing Ember, knowing that she will never see me as her father. But after tonight…it hurts less. I can’t help but feel that Tyrande and I had twins so that we could give her to you; she is the child that you and Zul’vii cannot have on your own.”

“The child that…” Illidan gave his brother an unreadable look. “I had never even thought about having a child with Zul’vii, much less realized that we can’t.”

“You didn’t?” Malfurion’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline. “I saw you two…the way you…I just assumed…”

“We haven’t,” Illidan said firmly.

Malfurion studied him for a long minute, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Illidan, do you mean to tell me that you are not yet a man of the world?” The half-demon’s flush was all the answer he needed. “Really? Ten thousand years old, veteran of two wars, feared across three continents, powerful enough to challenge the Burning Legion, and pure as this snow?”

Illidan sputtered, face darkening further, trying to look enraged despite his blush.

“Brother…tell me you at least know how it works.” The druid struggled to not laugh.

“I know…the basics.” Illidan muttered reluctantly.

Malfurion laughed and clapped the half-demon’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out.”

Slowly, the hackles came back down. “If she even wants to.”

“Brother, you’re bonded. You know the stories as well as I do.” Malfurion’s amusement faded. “You’re serious. You really think…Illidan, what happened to you in that cell?”

“Nothing.” Illidan glared out at the rosy dawn, hands clenched. “Maiev came to taunt me once a day, at first. I ignored her. When she couldn’t get a rise out of me, she started coming every other day. Then once a week. In the last thousand years, I think I saw her six times.”

“I allowed her to be your warden because I thought she was attracted to you. I hoped…I’m sorry, brother. I’d hoped that you would find happiness with her. That’s why I did not block her path when she followed you.”

Illidan snorted. “She was attracted to me. That’s why she got so enraged when I turned her down.”

“Whatever happened to her?”

“She got me with a venomed dart while I was…away from my forces. Put me in a cage, tried to drag me back. Kael and Vashj tracked her down, killed her troops, and restrained her for me. I cut her head off and left her for the scavengers.” He glanced at Malfurion, looking for a reaction. “I had enough to worry about without looking over my shoulder for her trying to enact some insane notion of justice.”

“It was kinder than what I would have done,” the druid said tersely. “She told me – well, you were there for that.”

“Time for bed, children!” Tyrande called from deeper in the cottage.

“You think she really wants to?” Illidan muttered as both brothers turn away from the window.

“Trust me,” Malfurion assured him.

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“But I wanna sleep with you and Mama Zul’vii.” Ember pouted as Illidan carried her to her brother’s bedroom. “I got to sleep with you last year.”

“Mama Zul’vii wasn’t with us last year,” Illidan said firmly. “When mommies and daddies are together, they sleep in their own rooms while the children sleep in the children’s room.”

Ember watched Illidan’s face for several moments, gaze steady despite her bouncing slightly with his stride. “Are you and Mama Zul’vii gonna kiss? Like Mommy and Uncle Furion? ‘Cuz that’s what mommies and daddies do.”

Illidan kept his mouth from falling open through sheer force of will. “Time for bed. No biting your brother.” With one hand, he pushed the door open and strode into the room the two younger Stormrages would be sleeping in.

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“I thought Ember was going to be sleeping with us,” Zul’vii said, surprised.

Illidan crossed the room to his troll, noting the moment he stepped close enough to smell her. “I told her that mommies and daddies slept in their own rooms, and children sleep in the children’s room.”

“I don’t imagine she took that without an argument.”

“She said…” The half-demon took a steadying breath. “She asked if we were going to kiss because ‘that’s what mommies and daddies do’.”

Zul’vii started, then turned to him. Her pale amber eyes were very wide. “Are we?”

Insecurity came rushing back, along with his brother’s reassurance. His stomach fluttered as he deliberately lowered his defenses and asked quietly, “Are we?”

Slowly, Zul’vii raised one green hand to his cheek and he allowed her to guide his head down to her upturned face. Her lips looked very soft. Hesitantly, he closed the distance and brushed his against them. They were warm, and the little breathy oh that left them in his wake sent a thrill of lightning down his spine. He tried again, brushing his lips against hers as though checking to ensure they were there before he descended in full force, pressing and grappling, nipping and dominating, trying to taste her as though every moment of contact were a prize to be wrested from an enemy.

Moments later the skirmish ended and he lifted his mouth mere inches from hers. “I…don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed breathlessly, familiar heat in his loins making concentration difficult.

“You’re doing just fine,” she whispered back, eyes half-lidded, lips pursed as though awaiting the return of his. She brought her hands up to his cheeks, then slid them into his hair and fisted them before pulling his head back down into reach.

Illidan growled softly, hands on her hips, instinctively pressing his against her with such force that they backed up, step by step, towards the bed. Lips still interlocked, he lifted the troll onto the wide mattress and followed until she lay on her back with him crouched over her, wings mantled. Her hands vanished from his hair, only to reappear on his chest, stroking the arcane whorls. His cock throbbed and he rubbed it against her body awkwardly, constrained by cloth but feeling that the motion was right. Blindly he felt the contours of her with his member, drifting lower and lower until she moaned against his lips. He moaned as well, delicious friction awakening a desire for more, and set about trying to rub her harder.

One leg at a time, Zul’vii thrashed until his member rubbed more freely, caressing his hips with her calves. Lips forgotten, he drove his hard length against her soft flesh again and again until she quivered and cried out beneath him, the sound somehow tugging him closer to the glorious abyss of release. She bucked her hips against him, panting and uttering little gasping moans before sighing contentedly.

“Let’s get you out of there before you make a mess,” she purred, and then her hands were suddenly hot against his sensitive flesh.

Illidan groaned as her fingers wrapped around his shaft, all motion stilled by her touch, all thoughts banished by the awareness of her hands.

“We gonna do this?” she asked, voice husky.

Illidan swallowed, struggling to form words. “You…tell…me.”

Hesitantly, Zul’vii tugged and he allowed himself to be positioned, his magical sight blanking out as he lost the concentration required to focus the arcane matrices once that sensitive skin touched warm wetness. The troll’s hands guided his shaft, rubbing him against her folds, teasing him with the tight mouth of an opening that he could not seem to enter with the hesitant thrusting motions his hips seemed to execute of their own accord.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Zul’vii said softly, hands stroking up his shaft before tightening, tugging him down against that teasing opening.

Yearning for that snug wetness, he pressed harder and was rewarded with the head of his erection slipping inside that impossibly tight tunnel, a sensation so indescribable that he short-circuited in blissful ecstasy. His bones turned to jelly in the wake of that explosion and he sank to the mattress, head pillowed on Zul’vii’s shoulder.

“We gotta work on that,” she murmured, free hand stroking his hair. One wing lay limp across her body and she snuggled contentedly beneath that living blanket.

Sleep claimed them.

=====================================================

Zul’vii awoke to find Illidan propped up on one elbow, watching her, one finger lightly brushing her cheek. The usual casual insults bubbled up, but something about his expression made her swallow them.

“You really wanted to do that, last night?” His voice was soft, almost pleading. “I did not force you?”

The troll cupped his cheek, surprised by the way he leaned into the touch. “Moldy old bat,” she said fondly. “I was practically forcing you.” He did not return her smile, and she let it fade. “Illidan…of course I wanted to do that. I have for a while now. I love you.”

He pulled her close, body curling protectively around hers. “Even though I am old, and ugly, scarred in mind and heart?” The words were a choked whisper.

“Do you think that makes one bit of-”

Illidan cut off her indignant response. “I was cruel to you. I did not want to bond to you, so I tried to drive you as far away as I could until my wound was healed. Then I left, to see if you suffered in my absence. I could have killed you. All I had to do was refuse the bond.”

Zul’vii was silent for a long moment. “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to be alone anymore,” he whispered into her hair. “I was greedy, selfish. I accepted the bond so that there would be at least one person in this world that cared about me, even if it was not willingly.”

“Even though you loved Tyrande?”

“I still love her. Sometimes I still wish it had been me that she chose, but only fleetingly, the death throes of a dream ten thousand years old. I love her, but I no longer desire her in my arms, my bed, my life. She is a friend, a sister. She is not my mate, nor do I wish she were.” He pulled back to caress her face again. “I caused us three years of agony by denying how I felt, both to you and to myself. I was too proud to admit that I cared, knowing that those words would keep you at my side. I watched you walk away and told myself that you would come crawling back to me, because we were bonded. When you did not, I convinced myself that it was because you did not care. It hurt.”

“You big fool.” Zul’vii blinked back tears. “I wanted to kiss you silly that day on the boat, when I met Tyrande and she told me she loved you as a friend, just kiss you until you stopped hurting. I think I fell in love with you the moment our eyes met.”

“Why did you not find someone better? What is there about me to love?”

“My parents fought constantly, did I ever mention that?” Zul’vii snugged closer, using his arm as a pillow. “They were always insulting each other, sometimes attacking each other, but neither of them ever even mentioned the idea that they separate for any period of time. I asked my mother once why they did it, and she said that their love was too big for kind words, and that they were too proud to show weakness, so they hid the kind words in the cracks between the ones they did say. They fought to say ‘see, you’re the only one I think about, you’re the only one who could be my match’. I know that’s not how most people do it, but secretly I always thought my parents’ way was better. If one of a pair leads the other, they’re not partners. If they fight and make up, they’re not honest. But if they fight all the time, then you know they really care because otherwise one of them would leave.” One hand trailed down his chest to rest over his heart. “You had just been pulled from the brink of death. You could barely sit up, and yet you fought me. You challenged me. It was like you were saying, ‘I’m Illidan Stormrage, and I don’t settle for second-best or let anyone tell me what to do’. You never admitted weakness.”

“I never admitted fault,” he countered bitterly.

“I was the one who left. You were strong. You refused to stop being who you are, and I love who you are. Seeing you so proud makes me feel like I can be that strong and proud of who I am. You’re an arrogant, angry old grumpypants, and you don’t let anything change you if you don’t want it to. Not even me.”

“Keep challenging me, Zul’vii. Keep fighting with me. And don’t let me drive you away.” Illidan bent his head and gently covered her lips with his.

“Mmmm.” Zul’vii grinned as he broke the kiss. “Well, when you ask so nicely…”

A lunge, and Illidan found himself on his back, being thoroughly kissed by the troll on top of him. The feel of her thigh against his member brought the electric realization that neither of them had bothered putting themselves to rights before sleeping, and he felt himself harden. Somehow she shifted so that she could rub his growing erection with her leg, helping him along.

“And what,” he growled softly, “do you plan on doing with that? Impudent whelpling.”

“I thought I’d see if I can get you in me, arrogant old fossil,” she purred back.

The troll sat back on her haunches, both hands stroking his shaft while he clutched the bedsheets and groaned. “Keep doing that, and you won’t get a chance,” he warned.

The hands paused. “Does it really feel that good?”

“In ten thousand years, yours are the first hands to touch me there other than my own.”

Zul’vii laughed. “Alright, then. I won’t tease you.”

A few moments of awkward positioning later, and Zul’vii braced one hand against his chest while the other reached between her legs to hold him steady as she brought his head against her opening by feel alone. Illidan’s sight blanked out and he braced himself for the incredible sensations sure to follow. Again he slipped barely inside that tight tunnel, and the breathy sound of pleasure Zul’vii uttered nearly undid him. A few jostling, jiggling moments later, she uttered a sound of frustration.

“Zul’vii?”

“I…it won’t fit,” she said sheepishly. “We’re really going to need to work on that.” She bounced a few more times.

“Don’t,” he gasped. “Unless you want me to-”

The rest of his warning went unvoiced as she did just that, and over the crashing wave of his climax, he heard her chuckle.

“Maybe I do.”

“Evil…wench…”

“Yes, but I’m your evil wench.” The troll sprawled contentedly on him, her warmth echoing what was inside his heart. “Don’t you fall asleep on me, now. It’s getting to be time to wake up, if the noises in the other room are anything to go by.”

Illidan groaned. “Fine, you obnoxious harpy. Where are my pants?”

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Malfurion handed his brother a mug of honeymint tea, and together they watched the rest of their families at breakfast.

“So,” the druid said knowingly. “Was I right?”

“You were,” Illidan answered smugly.

“Are you a man of the world now?”

The half-demon took a sip of tea. “Nope.”

“No?” Malfurion looked at him in shock. “Why not?”

The smug grin turned into a smirk. “We encountered an issue with girth.”

“Girth? Oh, come on, brother. We’re not that big.”

Illidan took another drink of tea. “We weren’t. However, consuming the Skull of Gul’dan has…significantly altered my physiology beyond just horns and wings.”

Malfurion stared at him for a long moment. “…and you were jealous of me?”

“Was,” Illidan replied lightly. “And if I weren’t so disgustingly content with my troll, I might have asked Tyrande if she wanted to reconsider her choice in light of my current…assets.” Sip. “Lucky for you, brother, I am bonded to a half-celestial, and you know what the stories say about mortals bonded in such a way.”

The druid gave him a sour look. “I’d ask what you did to earn such amazing fortune, but I know too well that you paid for it in advance, and I was the one who collected the toll.”

“Indeed, brother. You have no one to blame but yourself, and I have you to thank for everything.” Illidan laid one hand on his twin’s shoulder, the smug draining away. “Thank you, Furion. The good and the bad – I thank you for all of it.”

Blinking back tears, the brothers embraced roughly before resuming their earlier poses, each smiling fondly at his mate and child.

“It’s really that big?” Furion asked casually.

“It’s really that big.”

“She’s really that tight?”

“She’s really that tight.”

Silence reigned for a few moments.

“What are you thinking, brother?” Illidan asked.

Malfurion grinned. “I’m wondering which of us had it worse for ten thousand years – you with nothing to do, or me with everything to do – so I know whether or not to wish our fates had been swapped.”

 Illidan stared at his brother for a long minute, a half-smile playing about his lips.

“Brother…what are you looking at me like that for?”

“Oh, just trying to imagine if your wings would have been as magnificent as mine,” the half-demon replied innocently.

“Hey, my wings are plenty magnificent!”

“I’m sure they are,” Illidan soothed teasingly. “But my hooves are more splendid.”

“You only say that because you’ve never seen me take on the aspect of the Stag,” the druid retorted smugly. “And, for that matter, my Bear-aspect’s claws are more than a match for yours.”

“Ah, but can you beat these glorious fangs?”

“Just see me in Cat.”

Illidan smirked. “And your assets?”

Malfurion smirked back. “Let’s just say that Cenarius’s tutelage altered my physiology beyond just my antlers.”

“We are the best,” Illidan said contentedly.

“We really are.”

They looked at each other and gently touched their mugs together. “Happy Winter’s Veil, brother,” they said in unison.